


Alchemy

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-09
Updated: 2007-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth smiled as Rodney showed off his crazy idea for a bandage, until she realized that even Rodney would not be that ignorant of basic first aid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alchemy

**Author's Note:**

> Tag to Season 1 _The Storm and The Eye_  
>  Many thanks to Aqualegia for all her encouragement :-)

Kolya had been adamant that none of the Atlanteans on Manaria were even aware of the attack on Atlantis but Elizabeth could not rest until she had heard Peter Grodin's voice stating that they were all fine and ready to come home. It took all of her skills as a diplomat to hide her anger while she talked to Smeadon, acting as if nothing abnormal had happened outside of the struggle to save Atlantis in the face of the most violent storm she had ever witnessed. Even though Rodney had already verified that Kolya and his men had stepped through from the Manarian home world, she would have to assume Smeadon innocent of any involvement in the failed takeover until she could prove otherwise. Many worlds were crawling with Genii spies, after all, and any one of those could have reported back to Cowen and given Kolya's task force access to Manaria without Smeadon's knowledge. However, her few dealings with the Manarian leader had left her feeling uneasy. John had described him as shifty and if they had not been short of time then Elizabeth would have sought an alternative safe planet. As it was, it proved how important it was for them to find and set up an alpha site where they would be beholden to no one; she would set Bates to this task once everyone was settled back into the city.

By the time the first of her people was ready to return, Ford had removed all of the Genii bodies to the morgue with the help of Teyla and the young Athosians. Two other bodies were placed there with far more reverence and kept at a distance from the terrorists who had taken their lives with cold-blooded efficiency. According to Sora, Kolya had killed both of John's soldiers as they rushed to help what they had believed to be the injured survivors of a Wraith attack on Manaria, having been duped into lowering the shield by an Athosian IDC and the faked distress call. She could not fault them for their decision for it would not be the first time their people had come through the Stargate hot but she knew John was already questioning the training that had them racing to their deaths rather than grabbing their P90s and retaining a safe position up on the balcony of the control room. She knew he would be blaming himself for that lack of vigilance and she expected to see the remaining soldiers reaping the benefits of hindsight, though they would probably not appreciate it at the time.

The outgoing connection to the Manarian home world disconnected and, moments later, as the last chevron lit up in blue and the rush of the opening wormhole flared against the shield, Elizabeth held her breath and waited for Rodney to verify the IDC before hearing Sgt. Bates confirm his identity verbally too. Despite his professionalism, she could hear the suspicion in the sergeant's voice, as if he knew something bad had happened in his absence from the city. She gave a bitter smile, recalling his reluctance to leave Atlantis. Bates had considered it unwise for both the military commander and the expedition leader to stay behind in case something went wrong and both were lost. Of course Rodney would have taken umbrage at not being included in Bates' tirade except Bates had forestalled that rant by unintentionally stroking Rodney's already massive ego. Of the three of them, only Rodney had needed to be in Atlantis for no one else had the necessary skill, knowledge and the ATA gene to deal with any technical issues that arose. In truth, neither she nor John should have remained behind but like the captain of a ship, she had wanted to be the last to leave and John... Well, she had her suspicions that John would never leave Rodney's side willingly.

Perhaps the decision for the three highest ranking members of the expedition remaining behind had not been logical but Elizabeth was glad it had been John and not Bates with them today. As good as he was, she doubted Bates could have stayed free and alive long enough to handle the Genii already on Atlantis and prevent reinforcements from arriving. She also doubted that Bates could have taken the shot that sent Kolya falling backwards through the Stargate, leaving her safely behind in Atlantis, though she was still surprised that John had assigned that task to himself, leaving Rodney's safety to Ford. Still, it showed the increasing level of trust he placed in the young marine lieutenant.

The first of her people began to step into the gate room and Elizabeth knew she would not relax until the last of the Atlanteans and Athosians had returned, with each person verified by either Bates or Teyla because they could not afford to allow another Genii team to slip into the city. Not when they were already so vulnerable following the storm and the last attack. Grodin looked up at her as he stepped through, quickly making his way up the stairs and into the control room where he moved to his usual duty station to assess the damage wrought by the storm. She nodded her gratitude as he set to work.

As the rest of her people began to step through, with relief evident on their smiling faces, she wondered how long it would be before the truth spread that they almost did not have a 'home' to return to. Rodney had saved the city with his and Zelenka's plan but, without John's black ops approach to dealing with the Genii invaders, that plan might have been for nothing. Though one thing bothered her. Although protesting loudly all the way, Rodney had let the Genii soldiers force him down the stairs towards the open Stargate leading back to their home world. At the time, she believed the attempt to raise the shield had failed but, in hindsight, she knew that had been a ruse on Rodney's part and yet he had seemed willing to see the city destroyed rather than allow it to fall into the hands of the Genii.

Would he have stepped through the Stargate, or would he have balked at the event horizon and told Kolya the truth if John had not arrived at that fortuitous moment? No matter what, she didn't believe he had acted out of cowardice, for even though he had caved in to Kolya's torture, she had witnessed several brave moves on his part during their captivity. He had opened the radio link to forewarn John of the Genii attack, giving away Kolya's plans. He had even stepped in front of a gun to save her, and then lied straight to Kolya's face when he pretended his and Zelenka's plan to save the city had failed.

On the surface, Rodney seemed petty and arrogant, running intellectual circles around most of his staff and barely taking the time to even learn their names. He had treated Kolya with the same disdain, seemingly unable to curb his sharp tongue even with a gun pointed right at him. Perhaps he had already surmised that Kolya posed no serious threat to his life because a scientist of his caliber would be a great catch for the Genii nuclear program. That certainly appeared to be the case at the end when Kolya insisted on taking her and especially Rodney back to the Genii home world rather than simply kill them where they stood.

Rodney came up behind her and John, babbling away as normal. Elizabeth was unable to withhold a smile as he showed off his crazy idea for bandaging his injured arm, walking away shaking her head until she realized that even Rodney, for all his derogatory comments about voodoo medicine, would not be that ignorant of basic first aid. John seemed to have the identical thought at the same time because he whipped back around. From a distance of but a few feet, she could see Rodney's eyes were glassy, his face pale with high color on his cheeks as the first mottled signs of bruising rose around the puffy skin on his left side from where Kolya had smacked him hard across the face, drawing little more than a pin prick of blood.

"Rodney?" John took several uneasy steps back towards Rodney, eyes widening when Rodney's smile faltered.

"I don't feel so..." Rodney waved his bad arm and hissed, drawing it to his chest even as the remnants of color drained from his face leaving it grey and sickly, his lips turned blue as his breathing deteriorated. He collapsed suddenly, knees buckling beneath his own body weight, with only John's quick reflexes preventing his head from striking the floor.

"Get a med team here!" John shouted, and Elizabeth dropped down on the other side of Rodney, relying on Grodin to make the call.

Her eyes met John's for a split second over the top of Rodney's body, finding them wide with shock as they both registered that Rodney was no longer breathing. Everything seemed a blur as medics rushed in, forcing her and John aside as they fought for Rodney's life. She was still sitting on the floor, pressed up against the rail that overlooked the gate room atrium as the cacophony of voices receded with the squeal of a gurney's wheels upon the ten thousand-year-old floor tiles.

"Doctor Weir?"

Elizabeth glanced up into Peter Grodin's shocked, dark eyes before looking around her to find she was all alone. She felt momentarily confused by the hand that reached towards her as the full weight of the day's events crashed down upon her, seeing again the business end of a Genii gun trained at her with intent to kill. She had known from the expression in the cold, dark eyes that it was no bluff for Sheppard's sake, and Rodney had stood between her and that gun even knowing the ruthless lengths Kolya would go to extract information. The whole expedition had owed Rodney for their lives several times over but it had never been so personal before today. Now, she did not even know if he was alive or dead.

"Elizabeth?" Peter started to crouch, his eyes now filled with growing concern for her. It was enough to make her snap out of her shock and she reached up for his hand, allowing him to draw her to her feet.

"Dr. McKay? Major Sheppard?"

Grodin shrugged uneasily. "The Major went with the medical team."

He stayed close beside her as she forced one foot in front of the other and walked towards her office when every cell of her body wanted her to race to the infirmary, only then noticing the small gathering standing close by, waiting and watching. Elizabeth nodded to Bates and Grodin, indicating towards the small briefing room set close by. It was time to let her people know what had happened in their absence.

"Ask Lt. Ford, Dr. Zelenka, Teyla and Halling to join us."

****

John stayed barely two steps behind the rushing feet and the squeaky wheels of the gurney, refusing to allow anyone to push him further away as they made haste towards the infirmary. He watched the frantic movements of the medical team as they fought to keep Rodney's heart beating, recalling only fractured images of their attempts to make Rodney stable for transport. Familiar words were bandied about; anaphylaxis, shock, possible concussion, blood loss. All of it meaningless to John except for the fact that it was taking Rodney from him, breath by labored breath.

He made only a token attempt to follow them through the final set of doors, knowing he could have easily shoved aside the tiny nurse who stepped between him and Rodney but beyond those doors the doctors and nurses would be working like a well-oiled machine, and John knew he could only be a rusty cog jamming up the works. It still pained him to stand aside. He could be a patient man when necessity dictated but here, at this moment in time, every part of his mind and body screamed for action. He paced back and forth across the waiting room, trying to drag every little observation from the past few hours out of his brain, trying to find something to explain Rodney's sudden collapse.

Blood loss? Perhaps some hidden injury Rodney had refused to acknowledge beyond the obvious one on his arm? Internal bleeding from being beaten by Kolya or his guards? Except Rodney had not moved as if he had any abdominal pain. Or had the Genii forced him to eat something when he complained of being hungry as he invariably did when under stress, something that had triggered an allergic reaction?

He shook his head at the last because an allergic reaction would have come on much faster, even if it was just a tiny amount of citrus. Several other possibilities cascaded through his mind but each fell by the wayside, leaving him at a loss so he started back through the same list again, over and over. Eventually, the adrenaline fueling his body ebbed away and John felt the weight of the past day catch up with him, his muscles trembling from fatigue and his sight blurring. He almost shoved aside the hand that caught at his arm, turning in time to see Teyla looking up at him with concerned dark eyes and with her own body mottled with bruises.

"You are exhausted. You should rest."

He shrugged out of her grasp gently but firmly, pacing back to the door and stopping, running one hand through his hair and along the back of his neck as he stared at the closed doors, wondering how long it had been since they took Rodney away from him. His hand reached out and touched the strangely warm surface, almost willing the door to open for him but holding back harshly on that thought because Atlantis would do as he asked. It would slide open that door and let him inside at his command no matter the wishes of the occupants inside. He leaned forward, forehead resting against the warm glass, wishing he could see through the orange, gold and blue. He let his sense of hearing sharpen for any sound that would tell him if Rodney lived or died but the doors were soundproofed and remained opaque, revealing nothing.

He should have told Rodney how he felt about him. Life was too short in this fucked up galaxy to waste even a minute on a fear of reprisals. After all, what could the military do to him out here? Every single soldier had been hand picked for more than simply being good at their job. All had been psych tested for tolerance and an open-minded attitude, even Bates, because the SGC had recognized from the start that they could not take their own parochial views and religious beliefs to the stars. They had to stick to the basic tenets of civilization, which meant accepting that love came in all shapes and forms. None of his soldiers would think any less of him as a commanding officer because he preferred to suck cock. None would be waiting for him in darkened hallways ready to kick his teeth in or hesitating to protect his back under fire. If anything, the scientists posed the greater threat because brilliance came at a price, though even they had been vetted to bring as little intolerance through the gate with them as humanly possible. The US military rules had been toned down to cater for the multi-national aspects of the expedition so it wouldn't be a problem. What happened here on Atlantis would stay on Atlantis. Yes. He should have told Rodney.

He checked his wristwatch, startled by how much time had elapsed since Rodney's collapse and sank to the chair closest to the door just as it opened, revealing Carson looking too pale beneath the white bandage on his head. He started to rise but Carson waved him down.

Although Carson should have been resting because of the concussion he sustained from Sora, John was glad to see him, knowing Rodney was in a safe pair of hands but Carson's expression was not as promising as John had hoped.

"McKay?"

"Holding his own, Major." Gingerly, Carson lowered himself into the chair next to John, sighing heavily before looking up at Teyla. "You're just the lass I wanted to see."

"How may I be of assistance, Doctor Beckett?"

Carson's eyes flickered to John. "Rodney was poisoned. A slow acting poison, but we don't know the toxin involved. Plant or animal, though I'd take a stab and say it was plant-based. Would you mind speaking with Doctor Kelver and see if the symptoms ring any bells?"

Despite his polite words, John could hear the underlying tension and his own concern for Rodney ratcheted up another notch. Teyla frowned slightly at the little used idiom but determined its gist before John could offer up a translation.

"Of course." She hurried into the infirmary leaving John alone with Carson.

"How bad?"

Carson flinched from the harshly snapped question. "Seriously, I don't know. He's holding his own right now but that could change rapidly depending on how the poison is acting in his body. We've already seen a type of anaphylaxis with the poison causing his throat to swell shut but there's only so much epinephrine I can inject him with before even that has a detrimental effect on his body." Carson sighed. "What I can't understand is why they'd poison him in the first place, especially if they planned on taking him with them alive."

"Unless it was meant as a means of control."

"Aye. That could be it." Carson's eyes brightened fractionally. "Our Rodney's not the easiest person to deal with and if he gave that Kolya a hard time then the man might have decided on an alternative means of keeping him in line." He exhaled worriedly. "At least I hope to God that's the truth because it means there's an antidote out there. I need to consult with Doctor Kelver." Carson narrowed his eyes suddenly. "And it looks as though you need to get some food and some rest."

"I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"You look plain exhausted, man."

"I said I'm fine," John replied testily.

"Well, you don't look fine to me, son. And I have enough to worry about already without adding you to my list of patients."

John felt a stab of guilt, realizing he had already taken up possibly vital moments of Carson's time, time that should have been spent helping Rodney.

"Okay. I'll grab a bite to eat and then I'll head to my quarters."

Carson nodded in satisfaction at the answer, hissing in pain at the sudden head movement. "Remind me not to do that." He leaned across and squeezed John's shoulder. "Off with you now. You'll be one of the first to know if Rodney's condition changes for the better... or worse."

With reluctance, John pushed up from his chair and walked away, glancing back in time to see Carson disappearing through the infirmary door. Images of Rodney lying beyond that door fighting for his life came unbidden, chasing away any thoughts of food. He knew he ought to head to his quarters for much needed rest but turned instead towards the small office he had acquired just off the control room.

Two of his men were dead because they had failed to follow common sense when reacting to a situation. Having no contact with Earth and the SGC, those were losses that they could ill afford and, quite frankly, John had grown to know and respect every soldier under his command no matter what nation they had originally come from. Losing anyone on this expedition was a personal as well as a professional blow.

He was not surprised to find Bates waiting outside for him, with anger seething behind the dark eyes. Bates followed him in and John tightened his lips, expecting this to be a difficult interview because, at this moment, he felt a complete failure as a commanding officer. He kept his face impassive as Bates took up a stance in front of his desk.

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

Sheppard gave a tight nod, deciding it was better to get this out in the open.

"Fucking bastards. We should send a bomb back through their fucking 'gate and let Smeadon know what it feels like to be on the wrong side of terrorism."

John stared at him, momentarily shocked by the sheer venom against the Manarians rather than against him. He rallied his thoughts quickly.

"We don't know if Smeadon had anything to do with this."

Bates snorted. "He and his people were doing a silent head count while we were there, checking out the 'jumpers, equipment and ordnance. I got Halling to give us a few more 'gate addresses in case we had to make a run for it." Bates fumed. "Never thought the fucking bastard had betrayed us to the Genii though. Figured he was just trying to work out whether he could take us without too many losses on his side." Bates looked hard at John. "We lost two good men today."

"And that's why I wanted to see you. We can't afford to lose too many more." John sank to his seat behind his desk. "We need a training program to make sure we don't lose any more so recklessly."

Bates stood ramrod straight. "Sir, I take full responsibility for the inadequate training of--"

John rose to his feet. "No. I'm in command here. I should have foreseen this. We nearly lost Doctor Weir and..." he swallowed hard, "...And we still might lose McKay."

Bates sighed, relaxing slightly. "McKay's a pain in the ass...but he's our pain in the ass, and the best hope we have of finding a way to regain contact with Earth." He looked introspective for a moment before looking back across at John. "And I kind of like the arrogant bastard."

"Well, Doctor Beckett has got Teyla talking to Doctor Kelver about Pegasus style poisons." He noticed Bates flinching slightly, wishing he understood why those two were constantly at each other's throats. "Hopefully, she and Halling will recognize what was used and figure out where to find the antidote."

"Yes, sir."

"Until then, we need to draw up some training schedules."

"Yes, sir."

***

Teyla stared down at Rodney, her lips tight with worry as she watched a machine push air into his lungs. Doctor Beckett had mentioned Rodney having a type of seizure where his throat had swollen until he could no longer draw breath. She could not pretend to understand the technology or the methods being used to keep Rodney breathing. All she knew was that the doctor had pushed a tube down Rodney's throat to hold open the airway, allowing precious oxygen to reach his lungs, and yet his condition deteriorated by the hour.

Doctor Kelver was taking more readings and jotting notes into a small electronic datapad similar to the one Rodney often carried. His mouth was a grim line as he reached over and drew back one closed eyelid, flicking a light back and forth to monitor pupil reaction but both pupils seemed fully dilated and unresponsive. Rodney's skin had taken on a gray cast, with dark circles beneath his eyes making them look hollow, and the whites of his eyes had lost their usual brilliance, taken on a sickly yellow hue.

As Kelver worked over his patient, with Beckett hovering almost at his shoulder, he verbally catalogued the physical symptoms of whatever poison was ravaging Rodney's body.

"Heart beat is rapid and erratic, but that could have been the epinephrine." Teyla watched as he wiped Rodney's face, cleaning away the drool that had run from one corner of his mouth. "Doctor Beckett, had you noticed the tears weeping from his eyes, as if fighting off an irritant."

"Cenera's Tears," Teyla murmured, grasping onto an old memory evoked by his words. Halling looked at her carefully and she could see the memories stirring behind his eyes. Halling's thoughts focused inwards as he began to speak.

"There is a legend that Cenera was in love with a proud warrior called Lysate, and they were to be joined. But he was betrayed by his own people, who fled as the Wraith approached, leaving him alone against many. After the Wraith had gone, having consumed or culled their fill, Cenera struggled free from her father's arms and searched for her beloved among the fallen. She fell down to her knees beside his age-ravaged body and cried out in her despair. None could console her and she took his knife and plunged it into her own breast, falling across her lover. Where the two of them lay in death, a flower grew from her blood and from the bitter tears of anger against those who had left him to face a terrible enemy alone." He looked back up. "It is a Manarian flower. Blood red with white tear-shaped spots." He shook his head slowly. "I have no knowledge of any potion used to counteract the poison made from its leaves and sap. Perhaps someone on Manaria may know of such a cure."

Kelver nodded. "At the very least, perhaps we can bring samples of this plant back to Atlantis and have Dr. Parrish analyze it. He's already in his lab trying to identify the alien compounds in Dr. McKay's blood stream, looking for any correlation with an Earth-based poison."

Beckett seized on the idea. "Aye, and it might give us a chance to alleviate some of Rodney's symptoms if we know what type of poison we're dealing with, and that might give us more time to find a proper cure if we can no find an antidote. I'll call Elizabeth right away." Beckett moved off quickly, tapping his ear piece.

Teyla turned to her friend. "Our people need assistance returning to their homes, and they will need your strength and your wisdom in this task. I will go to Manaria to collect this flower." Halling tensed, looking as if he was about to argue so Teyla smiled gently. "Perhaps you could speak with Charin and ask if she knows of any cure."

Halling stared at her for a moment as Teyla placed her hands on his shoulders and bowed her head very slightly, having to take into account his greater height. After a moment's hesitation, she felt the muscles in his shoulders relax and he touched his forehead to hers.

"I will speak with Charin but if the Manarians were in league with the Genii in betraying the new Atlanteans then they have betrayed our people as well." His lips thinned. "Doran is still missing."

Teyla nodded, recalling the hot-headed young farmer who had disliked feeling obligated towards the Atlanteans even as he used their knowledge and generosity to improve the yields in his own fields. She knew his IDC had been used to convince the Atlantean soldiers to lower the shield and she felt saddened that she could not say with all honesty whether he had been coerced into that action or if he had given the knowledge freely. In either case, she suspected that he was already dead, having outlived his usefulness to the Genii and the Manarians. Of course, this incident merely served to justify Sergeant Bates' continued suspicion of her and her people. She had hoped they had put all remaining animosity behind them once they discovered the true purpose of the necklace returned to her by John Sheppard but she feared this event might have reopened those fears.

"Rest assured I will search for Doran once I have sent back samples of the Cenera flower."

She watched Halling leave, knowing he carried a heavier burden following Doran's possible betrayal and aware that part of his reasons for wanting to return to Manaria was to discover the truth. Light footsteps behind her brought a bittersweet smile to her lips and she waited as Sheppard came to stand beside her, his eyes drawn to the deathly pale figure lying on the infirmary bed.

"How's he doing, Doc?"

Kelver glanced up. "As well as can be expected."

"That good, hey?"

Teyla realized that Sheppard did not consider that to be particularly promising answer as it was plainly obvious that Rodney's condition was not getting any better so she offered the only good news she had available to them. "We believe we have identified the plant from which this poison came...but not the cure."

He scrunched up his face a little. "I guess it's a start." He fell silent, chewing on his lower lip as he tightly gripped the raised sidebar that would prevent Rodney from falling should he have another seizure. She knew his hands itched to reach out and touch Rodney, to reaffirm that he still lived for neither of them was used to seeing Rodney so still and so deathly pale. He cocked his head slightly and reached up to his ear, holding a one-sided conversation.

"Yes, she's standing right here." He flicked his gaze to Teyla. "We'll be there in five minutes. Sheppard out." His eyes narrowed. "Apparently, we have another trip planned to Manaria, to pick flowers for Rodney."

She could see that he was trying to lighten the moment with gentle teasing but his eyes slid sideways to the bed, betraying the pain and concern he felt for their team mate. She had seen this same look come into his eyes before when Rodney was in danger.

When they entered Doctor Weir's office, Teyla had to hide her irritation at finding Bates present for the mission briefing. Another of the Atlanteans was also present, a man she had seen in the city from time to time but had not spoken to before now, along with Doctor Beckett. Elizabeth called the meeting to order.

"I've asked Dr. Parrish to attend this briefing in case he can add any insight into what we are looking for. Dr. Parrish?"

"Ummm. The poison has qualities in common with Aconitum napellus. Errhhm...Monkshood or Garden Wolfsbane. Aconitine is one of the strongest plant poisons known on Earth. At first, it acts as a stimulant, which is why I considered this one first of all as, from your accounts, Dr. McKay acted...errhm..."

"Like he was on an adrenaline rush," Sheppard stated. "Except I thought that was just a side effect from him being tortured, nearly getting abducted by Kolya and then racing to get the shield up in time to save Atlantis."

"Yes. I agree that could be the cause of... However, after that the known symptoms of aconitine poisoning differ slightly from Dr. McKay's but are still close enough to make this my first choice. Aconitine poisoning can be introduced through piercing the skin." He huffed a dry laugh. "In old times, warriors would coat knives and spearheads in the poison so even a scratch would be fatal to an enemy...and I believe Doctor Beckett located a pin prick on Dr. McKay's cheek from where he was struck by...errhm..."

"Kolya." Sheppard's low voice held anger and disdain as he spoke the name aloud. Beckett continued before Parrish could be further sidetracked.

"Aconitine poisoning follows a pattern of stimulant followed by paralysis of the nervous system, oral paresthesias...that's a tingling sensation in the mouth, abundant salivation, confusion, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. The skin cools, limbs become insensitive to touch and heart rate increases. Death usually results from respiratory failure and cardiac arrest."

Teyla recognized most of the symptoms as ones suffered by Rodney over the past two hours. The room fell into silence as Parrish looked at them all nervously following Doctor Beckett's description, his eyes finally flitting back to Doctor Weir but Teyla spoke up.

"Cenara's Tears follows a similar pattern to this... Wolfsbane... according to my knowledge. Perhaps the differences might be attributable to Dr. McKay's problem with citrus fruits?"

Beckett leaned forward. "Aye. That's a possibility I had not considered. The anaphylaxis might not be a normal symptom of the poison. Rodney had a lot more allergies during childhood that he outgrew but we're in a whole new galaxy now where any one of us could react badly to some innocuous plant that is perfectly safe for Pegasus natives."

"Or suffer a different kind of reaction."

"Exactly, Major. Unfortunately, the toxin broke down too fast in Rodney's system for us to know what it started out like. If this Cenara's Tears is the source of the poison then we have a good chance of finding an antidote."

"Then I guess we'd better get going," Sheppard stated and Teyla could see that, beneath the soft words, he meant it. He was not the type of man to wait patiently when a life was hanging in the balance and most especially when this life was Rodney's. He rose from his seat and Teyla stood too but Doctor Weir called to him.

"Major? We have no proof that Head Councilor Smeadon was aware of the Genii attack on Atlantis from his world, but if he was then...be careful."

Sheppard gave a single tight nod and walked out. Teyla followed him with Bates and Dr. Parrish close behind her. Part of her wished that Sheppard had assigned Aiden Ford but Teyla knew it was good sense for Bates to accompany them to Manaria because his gate team had brokered the original trading treaty with the Manarians only a month earlier. Lt. Ford would remain behind to organize the resettlement of the Atlanteans and Athosians, and to discuss tactics to prevent such an attack occurring a second time. However, Teyla knew Bates would be feeling particularly angry should the Manarians reveal duplicity in the attack for he had recommended them as an evacuation site. Handling his anger on top of Sheppard's might prove difficult should he let it slip but, despite her antagonism towards Bates, she knew he would be a consummate professional. Perhaps more so than Sheppard on this occasion.

As they completed their preparations in front of the Stargate, Teyla decided to speak up, wanting to ensure they were all following the same agenda.

"Obtaining the Cenara flower is of vital importance. We must not allow any other concerns to detain us until Dr. Parrish has collected sufficient samples and has returned to Atlantis."

Sheppard bristled slightly, settling his P90 into the crook of his arm and head tilting to one side. "You say that like we might have another agenda in mind?"

"As you are aware, Major, one of my people is missing. Until we find him or the truth, I will not believe that he willingly gave up the code to Atlantis." She knew she had her doubts concerning Doran but could not see the benefit in pointing them out as it would only fuel Bates' distrust in all her people.

"Okay," he drawled. "We get the flower samples, send back Dr. Parrish and then we go see our 'ally', Councilor Smeadon, and see if he has anything to say for himself."

Teyla nodded her agreement, knowing this was the best she could expect under the circumstances, though she would have preferred to ask questions among the Manarian people before approaching Smeadon. If Doran was still alive, then rumor of his whereabouts might have spread. Confronting Smeadon might force his hand into killing Doran to protect the truth. Teyla did not bother to press her case against Sheppard's proposed actions as she knew she would have more time to convince him to hold back once they started searching for the poisonous flower.

The wormhole engaged and, casting a backwards glance up towards the control room, Teyla nodded to Doctor Weir before following the three men through the Stargate, silently hoping that none of them would act foolishly.

***

Carson held his breath as he administered another drug into the IV line to counteract some of the more dangerous symptoms associated with possible Aconitine poisoning. Until they knew what chemicals were devastating Rodney's body, he would have to take reactive rather than proactive measures, aware that every drug administered might have the opposite effect to the one intended.

Thinking back to the briefing, he had not considered complications caused by Rodney's known allergies and, in hindsight, the epinephrine had caused a greater risk of heart failure but it had been necessary at the time or Rodney might not be alive at all. Even now, a single glance at the cardiograph showed that his heart was beating way too fast and irregularly but whether it was the epinephrine or the poison, Carson could not tell. All he could do was monitor the situation closely, only reacting when necessary.

Carson sank into the chair beside Rodney and grasped the limp, cold hand, carefully avoiding the IV site while silently cursing the headache that dulled his senses. Sora had hit him hard enough to knock him out for several minutes so he knew he had a concussion but he refused to rest while Rodney was in danger.

"Bloody fool."

He spoke softly with affection rather than malice, even though no one would overhear or care if they did. Rodney had become his friend while they were in Antarctica, drawing him away from his genetics research on the most flimsy of excuses. Sometimes Carson would fight against him but Rodney was like an unstoppable force of nature once he had made up his mind to do something. For Carson that meant dropping everything to sit down in that bloody chair or try to activate some thingamabob that Rodney or his team had found in the Ancient outpost. Of course, Rodney would drag him away for other reasons too. He would turn up in the makeshift infirmary complaining of this and that...mostly electric burns and headaches that needed just a dab of cream and a couple of pills to remedy, and then he'd insist on Carson accompanying him to the cafeteria area to watch over him while they both ate.

"You didn't have to pretend to hurt yourself to gain my attention, Rodney. You softhearted git."

Strangely, for all his affability and friendliness, Carson did not have many people whom he could call a close friend but Rodney was among that number. Once Carson had looked beyond the massive ego, he had found a small boy inside who had been starved for affection. Of course, Carson knew better than to pander to that need too often as it had a tendency to have a similar affect on the man's ego. He slumped forward in his seat, staring beyond the medical paraphernalia that hid the quirkily handsome face.

Rodney was the one who had convinced him to come to Atlantis. He had cajoled and begged, meeting every one of Carson's excuses and fears with reasons why it would be a grand adventure that they could share. In the end, the thought of his friend stepping into the great unknown without Carson to watch over him was the deciding factor. That and the other friendships he had formed with members of the expedition; his fellow doctors and nurses, some of the other scientists like Peter Grodin, and a few of the soldiers, and then there was Elizabeth Weir too.

On the whole, Rodney had been right, though Carson could have done without the Wraith and Hoff...and the Genii come to think of it. Rodney had brought him to this breathtakingly beautiful city floating on the ocean. He had led him to the most amazing discoveries and Carson could not imagine not having Rodney close by to share in them. Not that he was in love with the man or any such nonsense because Carson far preferred the soft curves of a woman to the harder angles and planes of a man. Yet he did love him as a friend; a good friend.

A blip from the cardio monitor brought his eyes up and he traced the pattern with a practiced eye, hoping this was not the start of another episode. So far, Carson and his team had been forced to intervene twice when Rodney's heart had skipped one beat too many. The pattern on the monitor altered again and Carson heaved a fear-filled sigh as he stared hard at it, anticipating the worst yet again.

***

Like most worlds in the Pegasus galaxy, Manara was beautiful, unspoilt by industrialization because the Wraith ensured that its human herds had little opportunity for technological advancement. It made them easier to control and to cull. The Stargate sat on a hill with the farms and other dwellings scattered through the valley below. A larger, stone-built town nestled at the far end of the valley, perhaps an hour's hike from the Stargate, easily visible despite the constant threat of the Wraith.

Some races, like the Athosians, chose to move their camps from place to place, their nomadic existence making it harder for the Wraith to find them, yet staying within close proximity of the Stargate because of the need to trade with others. Like the Hoffans, the Manarians had taken a far more pragmatic approach. They had decided long ago that there was no point in hiding, that the Wraith would find them wherever they went. They were a proud race who never considered burying the Stargate because the Wraith had always come in their great hive ships, the darts swarming through the valleys until they had taken their fill.

John recalled the history lesson from Teyla in that briefing weeks ago when Rodney had first suggested the gate address for the Manarian home world. He had assigned it to Bates' team because Teyla believed they were a simple agrarian people, though she was a little more reluctant to put forward her personal views since the debacle with the Genii. John had never blamed her for the Genii though, not then and not now. She had been duped along with all of her people and, probably, most of the Pegasus galaxy, into believing the Genii were simple farmers. The Genii had kept their secret well and could have become great allies in the fight against the Wraith had they not been so paranoid and insular. However, John knew from experience with the Hoff that ten thousand years of cullings created a certain mindset that became embedded in the culture. The Hoffan people and the Genii had that much in common in that they both wished to see the annihilation of the Wraith but where the Hoffan had been prepared to sacrifice themselves to the cause, the Genii preferred to sacrifice others, even those who could have been their friends.

At this moment in time, John did not know where the Manarians drew the morality line in their fight against the Wraith. For all he knew, they could have their own secret underground bunkers with mad scientists creating nuclear or biological weapons right beneath his feet. Or they could be simple farmers with a slime ball for a leader because, no matter what Elizabeth said, he would not trust Smeadon as far as he could pick him up and throw him. Smeadon was every inch the politician, looking to further his own interests as much as that of his people and John would not put it past him striking up a deal with the Genii, especially after hearing Bates' report concerning the greedy eyes weighing up the Atlanteans' worth.

At least Smeadon had made no attempt to stop his fellow Atlanteans from returning to Atlantis, no doubt not wanting to risk finding out exactly how powerful they were when backed into a corner. That was fortunate, really, as John had insisted on all but three of the Puddlejumpers remaining cloaked while on Manaria, not wanting to reveal the exact number to Smeadon's people in case that information fell into the wrong hands. His caution had paid off because if it had come to a battle to bring home the Atlanteans and Athosians then those ships would have been of great tactical advantage. It had not come to that though, and the cloaked 'jumpers had returned to Atlantis as silently as they had left with no one the wiser.

John cradled his P90 as Parrish darted here and there across the field with Bates dogging his heels. Teyla raised an eyebrow at the excited botanist's actions but seeing Parrish only made John miss Rodney more. He missed the acerbic comments on how high the pollen count might be, and how it would affect Rodney's sinuses and allergies. He missed the huffs of annoyance as Rodney twisted in all directions, seeking tiny fluctuations that might mean abnormal energy readings, and he missed the constant chatter as Rodney said whatever came to mind without stopping to apply an internal filter on occasion. Hearing him stammer as he tried to backtrack on some thoughtless remark that denigrated Teyla's people or Ford's intelligence was always amusing too, especially when Teyla raised an eyebrow that promised retribution in some form that would be neither pleasant nor physically comfortable. For his own part, John always filtered out any derogatory comments aimed in his direction equating Rodney to the little boy who pulled at a girl's pigtails because he liked her and didn't know how to tell her in any other way. Of course, John meant that metaphorically because he was hardly a little girl with pigtails, but the analogy fitted nonetheless.

As Parrish rushed by him again, gathering up another flower specimen with an excited cry, John could only imagine Rodney's pithy response and gave a bittersweet smile.

"Dr. Parrish?" John looked round as Teyla knelt down beside a particularly fragile looking flower. "I believe this is the Cenara's Tears."

Parrish dropped down beside her. "Oh my! Beautiful!"

John watched as Parrish dug carefully around the plant removing the roots in a large mud ball and placing it carefully into a sample bag. His eyes darted around, seeking another specimen, and then he was lurching off like an overgrown puppy, happily digging into the mud as he found more. John sighed. At least this part of the mission was going well, as no one had tried to stop them from taking the flowers. With a dozen specimens in hand, they walked back towards the Stargate.

"Major. We have company." Bates' grip on his P90 tightened as he spotted the small crowd standing between them and the Stargate.

"Yeah, I see them." He hoped they were some of those simple farmers who were merely interested in what John and his team had found but, on closer inspection, John could see that these men were guards from the citadel.

John slowed his walk a fraction, fingers tightening on the grip of his P90, flipping off the safety surreptitiously and knowing Bates and Teyla were doing the same. Parrish had the good sense to stay behind him, flanked by Teyla and Bates. As they approached, the ragged line of soldiers parted near the center and John was not surprised to see Smeadon waiting for them, his heavy robes trailing in the mud.

"Major Sheppard. You have graced our world again with your presence. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Just out for a stroll. Feel the breeze in my hair, pick a few wild flowers." He forced his most charming smile and Smeadon returned it with a similar smile that did not reach his beady eyes.

"We have been most generous by allowing your people to seek sanctuary here during the storm on your world. You would repay us by stealing from us?"

"A few samples...and if they turn out to be what we're looking for then I'm sure we can add them to the current trade deal."

"Which flower in particular?" He craned his neck slightly. "Aah, Cenara's Tears."

"We like the color, figured it would go nice with the city's decor."

"It's root, when crushed and refined, produces a powerful toxin." His eyes narrowed. "I cannot allow you to take the flower, Major Sheppard. Not without full recompense."

John cocked his head to one side. "What did you have in mind?"

"We have been informed you have a powerful explosive material in your possession."

John smiled softly. He could hear Bates grinding his teeth as Smeadon unwittingly made a connection to the Genii, though that still did not mean the Manarian were involved in the attack on Atlantis. It just made it more likely that they had fed the Genii the intelligence, and John wondered what kind of bargain Smeadon might have struck with Cowen. Had he expected a proportion of whatever the Genii took from Atlantis? Or had he expected to take his spoils from the Atlanteans stranded on Manaria once Atlantis was lost?

With Rodney's life hanging in the balance, John narrowed his eyes and decided to strike a small bargain with Smeadon. He nodded to Bates, knowing the man was like Ford and liked to keep a pack of C4 on his person. From the tightening of his lips, Bates was not happy to simply hand over the C4 but he understood Rodney's worth all too well and every minute wasted brought Rodney closer to death. Bates handed the package to John, who waved it enticingly at Smeadon.

"You allow Dr. Parrish to leave with the samples he has collected, and we'll stay and negotiate for a fair trade."

Smeadon stared hard at him for a moment before nodding graciously; he stood back, allowing them access to the DHD and watching carefully as Bates dialed up Atlantis and sent through his IDC.

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Dr. Parrish is on his way back with the samples." He wanted to say more. He wanted to ask on Rodney's condition but he did not want to give anything more away to Smeadon than necessary. The fact that they had come gathering the flower was proof enough that they had a dire need for it and he could not afford to let Smeadon know that this was very personal, and that the person afflicted with the poison was John's greatest weakness.

"This is Atlantis. Dr. Parrish may proceed."

John waited until Parrish had crossed the event horizon and then relaxed a fraction. The chance of the Cenara's Tears being the source of the poison was still a long shot but John was not a great believer in coincidence, and they might not have an antidote as yet but at least Beckett and his toxin experts had a place to start now.

Smeadon gestured towards the beast-drawn carts standing just over the brow of the hill and John nodded. Rodney would have been grateful for the ride to the citadel had he been with them. He always moaned about the walking.

***

Carson stared at the beautiful but deadly flowers, almost tempted to reach out and touch one velvet soft leaf but, for all he knew, the Aconitine-type poison could be in the leaves, if only to a lesser degree. Without meaning to, Smeadon had already clued them in that the root had the greatest concentration of the poison but Carson was still convinced that Kolya had not planned to kill Rodney. It seemed more likely that he had been given a smaller dose in the belief that his system would build up a need for the drug and that, like a heroin addict, the means of control was allowing regular doses. Except Rodney was from another galaxy and no matter how 'human' he looked compared to natives of the Pegasus galaxy, evolution had caused his genetic makeup to diverge so what might have been a simple control drug to a Genii had become a deadly poison to an Earthling.

Certainly, Carson had been very careful of the differences between them and the Athosians when offering treatments, preferring to resort to Earth drugs as a last resort though he had found relatively few common drugs that caused a bad reaction in Teyla or her people. All the basic analgesics acted the same way in relieving pain, and most of the synthesized vaccines had shown no detrimental effects but it was still better to be safe than sorry.

"It will take more than an hour to synthesize the drug and as Dr. McKay is stable for the moment, why don't you get some rest?"

Carson glanced up at Dr. Biro, wincing at the pain that refused to budge but he could not afford to dull his mind with pain killers.

"Perhaps a wee nap on the cot next to Dr. McKay's."

He saw her lips twitch in annoyance and thought she might disagree but, instead, she sighed and nodded, knowing it was a halfway decent compromise because Carson had no intention of leaving the infirmary while Rodney's life hung in the balance. Anyway, he had always found the soft beeps of the monitoring equipment strangely comforting, and Rodney had enough medical paraphenalia surrounding him to lull Carson to sleep...as long as those soft beeps continued.

He stretched out onto the cot beside Rodney and closed his eyes, trying to push aside the frustration and feeling of helplessness that had dogged his footsteps ever since they brought Rodney in. If it had not been for the Ancient technology providing full life support, Rodney would be dead now. Instead, the Ancient machines had stabilized his condition where Earth machines and medicine had failed. In hindsight, Carson could only be grateful for all the times Rodney had pushed and cajoled him to try out the amazing technology found in the Ancients' equivalent of an infirmary. He had not had a whole lot of luck until the moment he truly needed the technology to work, and then it had surprised him. Perhaps, as with the drone that he unintentionally fired in Antarctica, he needed to know that lives were on the line before he could call upon his courage to aid him. Elizabeth's words that day, telling him to shut the drone down before it hurt someone, had been spot on, calling to the part of his soul that needed to save lives. Biro's words earlier, telling him that Rodney was dying, were the ones that had spurred him on this second time.

He could not lose Rodney. Too many people relied upon him to find a way to send them home but, more importantly, too many people needed him on a far more personal level. Despite his sharp tongue and quick temper, and despite his inability to suffer fools gladly, Rodney had found friends here on Atlantis. There were people here who cared for him beyond his genius, and people who loved him.

He opened his eyes and turned his head towards the other bed. After so many years, the amount of equipment surrounding Rodney did not faze him at all as he knew each and every piece had a role to play in keeping his friend alive, and yet seeing Rodney so still was so very wrong. He needed to see him back on his feet, throwing back sarcastic comments as he waved his hands around...just being Rodney.

The steady beep of the equipment never faltered. The long eyelashes never flickered, his body and mind too deeply unconscious for REM sleep. Carson closed his eyes again and concentrated on the hiss and beep of the machines keeping Rodney alive, and slowly drifted into a restless sleep knowing his people would awaken him as soon as they had something to report.

***

Parrish had loved plants since he was a small child. His earliest memory was of sitting in the garden on the grass, plucking at the beautiful buttercups and daisies. His mother would make daisy chains and hang them around his neck and then she would hand him his toy gardening set and let him dig up the weeds beside her as she tended to the flower beds. His mother loved that garden and she instilled the same passion for plants into her son.

Where other kids learned the names of dinosaurs, he had memorized the Latin and common names of plants, cataloging them mentally into different groups, learning their secrets. To him they were as endlessly fascinating as subatomic particles were to McKay. Carefully, he picked up the fragile Cenara's Tears and assessed it visibly, from the vivid red of its bell-shaped petals with white droplet-shaped markings, to the large finely-divided leaves. If it was anything like its Milky Way cousin then every part of the plant was poisonous to a greater or lesser degree though Smeadon had indicated that the root was the most valued part, crushed and refined into a toxin. Humming softly, he began the refining process, wanting to see the final chemical formula in the hope that it would give him some knowledge into creating an anti-toxin.

An hour passed and Parrish was grateful for the Ancient technology that would speed up the whole process. Finally, he had a darkish powder, which he took along to Kelver's laboratory, knowing the biochemist would wish to oversee the next part of the investigation. They worked slowly and carefully, breaking down the chemical composition of the powder until they knew exactly what they were dealing with before calling a meeting with Beckett.

***

Bates took a deep breath and tried not to show how much he hated Smeadon at this moment. Two of his men were dead, their lives lost to treachery and, proof or no proof, Bates knew who was to blame even if Major Sheppard refused to see it. The Athosians had given them up to the Manarians who had, in turn, given them up to the Genii. Although there was no love lost between him and Teyla, he did at least want to give her the benefit of the doubt as she had proved her loyalty to Sheppard and his team on several occasions, but the rest of them? They did not know the Athosians that well. They knew little about their culture other than that they had abandoned their great cities millennia ago and had survived as a mostly hunter-gatherer race until Sheppard brought them through the Stargate into Atlantis. Now they tended to crops on the mainland to supplement their food requirements but who would not be envious of those living in their so-called city of the ancestors? Perhaps they wanted the city for themselves, believing, like the Genii, that they had a greater claim to the vast technology.

Except none of them had the ATA gene and from what Beckett was saying, it was highly unlikely that the gene therapy would work on them because they were simply too human.

Like me, he thought, aware that Beckett's gene therapy had failed on him after he offered himself up as a guinea pig. It had worked on less than half of those tested and Beckett was certain he understood why even if he could not fix the problem as yet. Still, maybe it was for the best that they could not give the gene to the Athosians, Manarians and, most definitely, to the Genii.

From the meeting in Doctor Weir's office following the storm, where she revealed the details of the Genii attack, it was apparent that the Genii commander was unwilling to accept that his people might not be special enough for Atlantis. He refused to believe that people from another galaxy had a greater birthright to Atlantis than his own people. If Sheppard's bullet had found its mark then that particular Genii was of no more concern to them but others would take his place.

Bates glanced across the council chamber at Sheppard. If anyone had asked him about Sheppard before Colonel Sumner met his death on a Wraith hive ship then Bates would have spat his name in contempt. Like all the marines, he had been swayed by rumor and Sumner's low opinion of the man but Sheppard had proved to be a formidable commander despite his inexperience and, though he liked Weir, he would place his trust in Sheppard first even without consideration of the chain of command. He just hoped he was never put into a position where he would have to show his loyalty to Sheppard over Weir. Yet it had worried Bates up until now. Instead of having Sumner's years of experience leading them, they had two inexperienced officers. Sheppard was a helicopter pilot, commanding maybe half a dozen men in the field before this ill-fated trip to Atlantis, and Ford had only just earned his lieutenant rank before shipping out. Except, maybe Sheppard was a lot more than he let on because Weir had described a soldier with black ops training when she spoke of Sheppard outwitting the Genii and sending dozens of them to their deaths against the Atlantis shield. Despite the laconic, easy going air about him, Sheppard had revealed a darkness within him that Bates would never have suspected before this day--the ability to push emotion aside and kill without remorse. In hindsight, he could recall other moments where Sheppard had shown that he was capable of commanding, but hindsight was twenty-twenty and, at the time, he had continued with his less than charitable thoughts concerning Sheppard. After today, it was time to re-evaluate.

Smeadon paused at the top of the table, taking up his position of power and gloating at the Atlanteans as if he knew far more than he was willing to let on.

"Many have mentioned the hardship they would face in the winter months with so much of our harvest given away."

"The deal was fair," Bates stated as Smeadon tried to make it look as if he had been robbed by the Atlanteans.

Atlanteans. When had he started to think of them as Atlantean rather than Earthlings or Tau'ri, as the Asgard and Goa'uld called them? Yet it seemed right after all these months cut off from Earth, foraging for food and technology on hostile worlds. They had become a tribe in their own right, brought together through adversity where those at the SGC remained segregated--scientist and soldier. Here they were all important and every death played on the minds of each of them, reminding them of their vulnerability. In the soldiers, Bates had seen a rising need to protect and he knew that was what sent those two soldiers to their deaths at Kolya's hand. They had raced to protect their people, their fellow Atlanteans, no matter that it was an Athosian IDC that sent the false distress signal.

He blamed himself, for Sheppard had more important tasks to perform than ensuring the men under his command understood protocol and duty. Technically, Ford should have been more in command of the men but he was a mere stripling, an inexperienced officer brought along to follow Sumner's orders and learn. Bates had the experience here and he had failed in his duty to ensure the men understood what was expected of them.

"On reflection, our negotiators were misled, not knowing of the great technology available to the Atlanteans, technology that rightfully belongs to the people of the Pegasus galaxy."

"We never concealed anything from you."

"Bates," Sheppard stated softly and he smiled at Smeadon, the same charming smile that fooled so many but if Bates looked closely enough then he would notice how it did not reach Sheppard's eyes. It was a shark's smile, cold and ruthless beneath the false warmth. His eyes darted to left and right but Bates had spotted the closing guards too.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave until I have negotiated a better...trade with your leader."

"And I was hoping we'd become good friends, share a harvest festival or two." That lazy air surrounded Sheppard again but the sarcasm was not lost on Bates. "I guess Cowen is more of a close buddy though."

Smeadon had the audacity to look smug. "My negotiation with the Genii brought rich rewards compared to that offered by the Atlanteans." He sighed. "But it is obvious that they lacked the necessary negotiating...and other skills required at the table."

"So how is Doran, by the way?"

Smeadon's expression closed up a fraction before he gave a politician smile. "I'm afraid Doran outlived his usefulness."

"He is dead?" Teyla asked quietly but they all knew that to be the case. Once he had given up the code he had nothing left of use to anyone. Certainly, the Genii had no further use for him. Bates felt a moment of sorrow, even if it was an Athosian, because his duty had been to protect them too.

"I'm certain he is of little loss to your people, all too willing to give up your allies under a little persuasion. However, the same could not be said of the military commander of the Atlanteans."

Sheppard gave a hard smile and Bates recalled how Kolya had persuaded McKay to part with information by dragging a knife across his arm. Others might see McKay as weak for giving in under torture but Bates understood that McKay had recognized his weakness and had fought back in other ways. Sheppard understood that too, recognized that McKay was no soldier trained to withstand torture. Eventually, by subterfuge, McKay had saved the city--saved all of them--because Bates was well aware of the fate that awaited them the moment the city was lost, whether to the Genii or to the storm. He had seen the Manarians surveying them, counting the number of soldiers against scientists, greedy eyes falling upon their equipment and ordnance as if already distributing the spoils between them. He wondered if they would have been stripped of possessions and sent through the Stargate to a hostile world, or whether Manara had a feudal or slave system that had not been so apparent during their earlier negotiations. Would the Manarians have sold on the most valuable of their people and killed or enslaved the rest?

Halling had felt the same tension, willingly offering up Stargate addresses that might be more hospitable until they found an empty world, probably one culled into extinction. For once, Bates had felt the need to trust the Athosian, knowing his people would suffer the same fate as the Atlanteans.

Smeadon continued, his voice as cold as his beady eyes. "Hand over your weapons and none of you will be harmed."

At least Smeadon had revealed the Manarian duplicity now, too overconfident to hide his part in the Genii invasion. It made Bates feel so much better about shooting the man's head off as soon as he got the order, not that he cared too much to begin with.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

Bates gripped his P90 tighter upon hearing Sheppard's softly spoken words, finger caressing the trigger and noticing Teyla doing the same in his peripheral vision. Without turning his head, he checked on the position of several of Smeadon's guards, tagging them for elimination as soon as Sheppard gave the order.

"I assure you, Major Sheppard, you are in no position to refuse my demand."

"I'm not so sure about that, Councilor." Sheppard tapped his radio. "Ford. Code Blue."

Bates hid his confusion easily enough but could see Smeadon frowning when Sheppard indicated towards the large window. It was almost comical the way Smeadon's eyes widened in shock when a Puddlejumper materialized right outside. Sheppard smirked as Smeadon's face lost all color.

"Guess that's some of that great technology you were interested in." Sheppard shifted his stance slightly but Bates could see his hands were steady on his P90, ready and willing to fire if need be. "So why don't you let us go and we'll forget all about that trade agreement."

"No!"

Sheppard's eyebrows rose into his hairline as Smeadon's deputy spoke up for the first time. "No?" he asked sarcastically, and Bates wondered at the man's audacity.

"No. Councilor Smeadon has overstepped his boundaries. He is the head of the council but not leader of our people." The deputy councilor stepped up, talking directly to Smeadon. "The council should have been informed of all of this and allowed to vote accordingly."

"The council is a chamber of weak minded individuals. The Genii offered us a great reward for information pertaining to the Atlanteans. We gave them the city of the ancestors and would have been recompensed accordingly, placed as a favored ally. What have the Atlanteans done for us except awaken the Wraith and bring them down like a plague spreading across the galaxy."

"They bring us hope that the neverending cycle of cullings might one day come to an end."

"You are deluded, Breadon. They are as weak as the rest of us, without even food to sustain them. The Genii are strong and powerful."

"It is you who are deluded Smeadon for the Genii have never favored anyone beyond their own people, and those of the worlds once subjugated to their rule." Breadon shook his head. "Until this day, we have all stood alone against the Wraith, abandoned even by the Ancestors. Now we have the chance to unite, to take new hope and ally ourselves to those who would fight for the freedom of this galaxy."

Bates watched almost in shock as a man who had remained silent throughout his former trade negotiations spoke so eloquently in favor of allying with Atlantis. Perhaps there was hope for this galaxy after all.

****

Charin sang softly as she prepared the leaves of the Cenara's Tears, watched by two of the Atlanteans and Halling. When Halling spoke of the poisoned man, she had recognized the symptoms immediately for Cenara's Tears was an old poison, one used for centuries by those wishing to enslave others. It formed a dependency between the person and the drug, the terrible pain driving the captive back to his master, desperate for release from the agony wrought to mind and body.

It had no cure as such, relying on ever decreasing doses over many years to wean the afflicted from its effects but at least this tea would prolong the life of the sufferer and bring some relief. Any attempts to hurry the process led only to death, and thus was the power of Cenara's Tears for it bound a person to the one providing relief.

As a young woman, she had been told many stories of its usage, of how another would bind a beautiful woman or man to their side, to serve in their bed and bear their children, or to indenture as a servant or slave. She recalled stories of one general who poisoned a whole army, keeping them bound to him alone.

Although the plant originated on Manara, it had been brought to many worlds since the rising of the Wraith all those millennia ago. Many had fallen into servitude under its power as civilizations collapsed into anarchy and darkness. Charin would not mention this but Teyla's own father had used the Cenara's Tears to take a woman from the Denebran, forcing her to accept him as husband or die in agony. She sighed, for Teyla's mother had almost jumped into the culling beam all those years ago, seeing a quick death at the hands of the Wraith far less agonizing than her existence on Athos at the cruel hands of Tegan.

As she worked, she considered the man poisoned by the Genii commander and had to admire his choice. Teyla spoke highly of this Atlantean scientist's abilities, of his agile hands and exceptional mind that could wrap the Ancestor's technology around his fingers. If all this was true then he would be a prize among those races hiding technology from the Wraith, worth more than his weight in grain. She smiled, recalling the handsome face of the young man lying in the Atlantean infirmary, with long lashes framing eyes as blue as the Stargate, seen only when she pulled back an eyelid, but easily remembered for their beauty. Perhaps the Genii commander saw him as a prize in more than one sense, intending to add his genes to the Genii gene pool or bring him to his own bed to glory in the possession of such a prize.

The Atlantean was one of those that Teyla had come to trust and respect so she wished she could do more for him but, with her help, at least his own people would be able to control his need instead of the Genii. At least he would be safe with his own people.

The one named Carson had come to the Athosian village many times, bringing new medicines that protected against old diseases whose cures had been lost in time. He brought happiness too, his gentle spirit always welcome among them as he guided and treated those who ailed. Charin had hoped to find one among her own people to carry on as a healer but her protégé had been lost during the last culling that had also seen the loss and miraculous return of Teyla and Halling. For that alone she owed the Atlanteans a great debt of gratitude.

"This tea will not cure him but it will relieve his pain."

Carson accepted the tea. "Thank you."

***

"I know of no cure for Cenara's Tears, only a way to relieve the symptoms and allow the poison victim a chance to live." Breadon rubbed his hands together, clearly agitated. "I know of only one alchemist among us who is capable of refining the poison but he left through the Stargate earlier today to visit family on Genii."

John did not bother to mention the coincidence because it was plain to see. Breadon looked almost ashamed as he said a farewell.

With no other options available, John returned to Atlantis empty-handed but at least he had learned the truth and had seen Smeadon pay for his betrayal, plus they still had the trade agreement for food that Bates' team had negotiated a month or two back. He cursed under his breath as he took over the controls of the Puddlejumper, leaving Markham to settle into the co-pilot's seat. If he had his way then Smeadon would suffer more than a simple reprimand and dismissal from the Manarian council and he suspected that Bates felt the same. However, they needed allies and they needed food if they were to survive in Pegasus. Manara could provide both now that Smeadon had been removed from office.

Walking back through the corridors of Atlantis, he felt an oppressive weight upon him and knew it was the city reacting to his state of mind. He reached the infirmary and took a breath before stepping through, expecting the worst but was both surprised and relieved to see Rodney sitting up in his bed. He looked terrible though, with his eyes almost too large and luminous in a pale face, hair matted and dark with sweat and his mouth curving downwards even more than usual. Beckett was beside him, talking softly, cajoling him into taking a few mouthfuls of the drink held in shaking hands but John could see by the way Rodney's nose wrinkled that it had to smell and probably taste pretty unpleasant.

"Just a few more sips, Rodney, then I'll let you rest."

"It's disgusting."

"Aye, but it's taking the worst of the pain away."

"For now." Rodney's bitterness both surprised John and confused him.

"Hey," John greeted him softly, and almost melted beneath the open vulnerability in Rodney's eyes when they turned to him. The high points on Rodney's cheeks flushed crimson and he almost spilled the contents of the drinking cup, saved only by Beckett's timely intervention.

"Major."

"Good to see you awake, McKay." John flicked a glance towards Beckett and saw tension vying with relief, noticing the way Beckett hovered as if he was anticipating a collapse at any moment. John licked his lips. Perhaps all was not quite as it seemed.

"Doc? A word?"

"Certainly, Major." Beckett called over a nurse to take over and headed towards his office, expecting John to follow. John patted Rodney's leg. "Back in a sec." He entered Beckett's office and closed the door behind him, too keyed up to take the offered seat.

"What's going on?"

Beckett sighed heavily. "We're certain that the poison used by the Genii was a derivative of that produced by the Cenara's Tears. In lower doses, such as supposedly given to Rodney, the drug is used as a means of controlling a person by making them dependent upon it and upon the person supplying it. Without a daily supply of the drug, the afflicted person experiences all the symptoms of Aconitine poisoning, leading to a slow and agonizing death."

"So Kolya deliberately poisoned Rodney, intending to take him back to the Genii home world and control him using this drug."

Beckett nodded tightly. "Unfortunately, refining the Cenara's Tears into the form needed to control another is...well, difficult to say the least. Drs. Parrish and Kelver were able to refine the pure poison but with something as deadly as Aconitine, you don't want to go guessing on the correct treatment level before dosing your victim. Kolya already made the mistake in assuming Rodney's body would react the same way as a Genii, anticipating a deterioration with accompanying pain that he would offer to relieve with more of the drug, perhaps waiting until Rodney was begging for relief. However, our physiology differs to a small degree from that of a Pegasus native, and Rodney's even more so because of his allergies."

"And that's why Rodney collapsed rather abruptly."

"Aye."

"But, obviously, you figured out the right treatment."

"No. As I said, it's not a drug you can treat using trial and error. Too much and your patient dies...but how much is too much?"

"Then how...?"

"Charin. My mother would have called her a witch but I suppose the old fashioned term would be an alchemist. Knowing how badly Rodney reacted to the dose given, she determined how much he needed to counteract the effects of the drug in his system. I injected some intravenously and, as you can see, he's no longer comatose."

"And a cure?"

"We're working on it...but it could take some time and I'm not certain how long Rodney's body will tolerate even the mild amounts of the drug he needs just to function."

***

Rodney grimaced as he swallowed the last mouthful of the awful tea, irritated that Sheppard had gone to discuss his condition with Carson in private. After all, it was *his* condition, something he knew a lot about. Poisoned. Though that was not what scared him so much as the remembered look on Kolya's face that had promised retribution for ruining his plans. In that split second he had seen all that Kolya intended for him, and it wasn't just his brains that would be used and abused. From the possessive gleam in his dark eyes, Kolya had wanted it all.

Walking down the gate room stairs, flanked by Kolya's men, he had been close to panicking, babbling away in the hope of distracting his guards, and wondering if he could push them both through the Stargate and run back to the control room where everything was set up ready for the real attempt to raise the shield. It had occurred to him that he would drown in the city if his attempt failed but, strangely, that felt more acceptable than spending the rest of his life dying one rad at a time in an underground nuclear bunker with inadequate shielding. It also felt better than spending his captivity warming Kolya's bed. Not that he had anything against sex with men, having enjoyed that pleasure more often than he'd had women, but he preferred a bed partner who at least liked him and who saw him as human being rather than some prized possession or battle trophy.

Admittedly, if Kolya had looked like Sheppard then he might have been tempted but... He let that thought trail away, knowing that was a place he could not afford to go and glanced back up at Carson's office door; it was still closed.

"Dr. McKay?"

Rodney startled, head whipping back around to find Teyla standing beside his bed. He had no idea when she arrived though he doubted it could have been that long, quietly wishing someone would put a cat bell on the woman when in Atlantis. She smiled warmly and Rodney decided that if it had been her rather than Kolya poisoning him in order to take him home and fuck his body and mind, he might have risked the radiation exposure.

"You are looking much improved."

"Um...yes. Though Carson's forcing me to drink this disgusting tea, probably made from eye of newt and bat dung."

"Eye of...?

He waved a hand and she smiled softly, accepting that she would gain no explanation. Silently, he wondered how often he did that to her, confused her with Earth idioms and then left her floundering to understand. It was easy to forget that language was more than just a list of words and tenses with meanings but, despite appearances to the contrary, he knew she suffered from ignorance rather than stupidity, and was a quick study. He suspected that she would recall his words and seek context for them from Ford; she had often come back at him with a phrase he had used on her only once before.

Her eyes flicked towards Carson's door as it opened and she laid her small hand on his forearm before stepping back a pace and greeting Sheppard and Carson.

"Finished talking about me now?" he snarked.

"Rodney," Carson admonished and Rodney had to bite back a retort because Carson had a tightness about his fatigue shadowed eyes that spoke too eloquently of concern for his well being. They had been friends since the early days in Antarctica. In fact, Carson was one of the few people who had accepted him for who he was, seeing beyond his social blunders and calling him a friend. Rodney didn't have too many of those though he had started to count others from the Atlantis expedition among them, people like Elizabeth and Zelenka, Peter Grodin and John Sheppard, and perhaps even Teyla.

"The Major wanted an update and I did'nae think you'd want to hear it all again."

Rodney had to admit that it had been annoying the first time round when Carson had explained it all to Elizabeth right above his head. He folded his arms defensively, and hissed when he brushed over his bandaged cut accidentally. He noticed Carson's frown and wondered if that had as much to do with the bandage adorning his own head as with Rodney's injuries. Certainly it looked as if Carson had not taken any rest considering he had overheard one of the other doctors mention a slight concussion.

He gave a small huff of annoyance at the smirk aimed at him before Carson walked away, leaving him alone with Sheppard. He could tell by the hard line of his lips that Carson's words had not reassured Sheppard in the slightest but there was something more besides.

"So, are you going to tell me what's been going on while I've been in a poison coma?"

The lips softened into a half smile. "Smeadon was in league with the Genii and now, he's no longer head of the Manarian council."

Rodney waited, frowning when Sheppard said nothing more. "That's it?"

"We picked you some flowers, Rodney. Not my fault the doc decided you needed them stewed rather than displayed in a vase."

Rodney glared towards the empty side table. "Some chocolate or grapes wouldn't have gone amiss."

"Since when did I become your girlfriend?"

"Then at least get me my laptop."

"Make that your slave."

"In case you have forgotten, this city just took on a superstorm without the benefit of a full shield for the duration. Countless areas will have been flooded and the grounding stations..."

"Zelenka is looking into it..." He held up a finger when Rodney opened his mouth to deliver his thoughts on relying only on Zelenka's abilities. "...And if he finds any major problems then he will contact you."

"Personally it's the problems he doesn't find that worry me," he griped but, in truth, Rodney simply wanted to get out of the infirmary. His body ached in an all too familiar way, reminding him of the last time he had suffered through an anaphylactic shock and the jittery feeling that followed. Except, this time, that feeling would return again and again until Carson or one of his voodoo scientists found a permanent cure.

Gritting his teeth, he flung back the cover and started to rise only to feel the pressure of Sheppard's hand on his chest.

"Hey, hold on there."

Sheppard proved a lot stronger than he looked, or maybe Rodney was feeling weaker than usual, but he fell back against the bed, the pillow giving beneath his head. He should have been annoyed at being manhandled but all his attention focused on the heat of the hand that bled through the thin cotton infirmary gown that someone had dressed him in, the kind that gave easy access to just about every part of his body, and wasn't that embarrassing. The least Carson could have done was left him some scrubs and some dignity. Instead, he bet he'd had his ass paraded for all the medical staff to see, and the botanists too. And they mentioned some old Athosian lady. Perhaps she'd had an eyeful too.

The hand remained on his chest, fingers splayed out like a Wraith feeding and Rodney wondered if, somehow, Sheppard was sucking the life out of him because his chest felt too tight, his breathing shallow and erratic, and his thoughts were going haywire. He looked into Sheppard's eyes and he was falling, falling into them, falling away from himself when the connection was broken. Sounds began to echo, muffled by the resonance of every consonant and vowel as Sheppard began calling to him, calling to Carson, to anyone.

His eyelids felt so heavy but he struggled on valiantly, forcing them open in the dimness of the infirmary. The soft, reassuring beep of a monitor filled the silence and beneath that a soft, slow shush of air breathing in, breathing out. Cautiously, he tipped his head to the side and saw familiar messy dark hair, head bowed to his chest, book lying loose and open on his lap, long legs outstretched. Rodney studied the sleeping man, the shape of lips and jaw, the high cheekbone and the small lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Thick lashes formed a dark semicircle against his stubbled cheek, and why had he never noticed those pointed ears before. Elfin, Elven, Elvish....Pixie, he snorted softly and it was enough to cause the slow, steady breathing to hitch, eyelashes fluttering and nose screwing up as Sheppard awoke.

"Hey." His voice was soft and lazy with sleep, face strangely open and vulnerable. "Can I get you something? Water?"

Rodney nodded because his mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton wool, with every droplet of moisture sucked out of him. His hands trembled as he reached for the glass.

"Let me." Sheppard held the glass steady, angling the straw towards Rodney and he sucked in the tepid water slowly, too exhausted to take the deep draws that he craved. When he let the straw go, Sheppard placed the glass back on the bedside table. "I'll go get Beckett."

"No." Sheppard stopped and stared down at him. "Stay...just a minute."

"Okay." Sheppard resettled in his seat and leaned in, elbows resting on the bed by Rodney's left shoulder.

Rodney felt his thoughts drifting again as he took in Sheppard's handsome face, noting the green-gold of his eyes, visible in the light shining from above Rodney's head. His lips quirked into a smile and Rodney blinked in shocked realization, wondering how long he had been staring; seconds or even minutes?

"I'm..." He felt confused. It was daylight so why was the infirmary so dimly lit, simulating night?

"You had a relapse."

"Oh...okay." That explained everything and yet nothing but Rodney could not seem to wrap his mind around what the problem was and why that answer should worry him. Then he noticed the warmth wrapping around his hand, stilling fingers that he had not noticed were trembling in agitation. The warmth seemed to travel along his skin, along his bones and nerves and muscle, making the rest of him feel too cool, and he shivered, hating the loss of those warm fingers wrapped around his when Sheppard rose to adjust the covers over him. He sighed when Sheppard slipped his hand back into his, weakly squeezing on the strong hand as a debilitating fatigue settled over him, dragging him back down into darkness.

***

"Carson?"

Elizabeth could not keep the concern from her voice because this was Rodney they were talking about, her chief of science and, more importantly, her friend. His was the very first name she placed on her list for expedition members, never having any doubt in his ability despite the less than stellar reports coming out of the SGC. They had never made the effort to get to know him, to see behind the ego and arrogance to the vulnerable person beneath, a man who managed to both vex and astound her at every turn. With Rodney there was rarely a dull moment, the days filled with his infectious enthusiasm for Ancient technology and his sarcastic wit.

She shivered in remembrance of just a few days earlier.

He had stood in front of a cold blooded killer to protect her, with his words and courage making the difference between life and death. Sora might have added her agreement for keeping her alive but Kolya had already been swayed by Rodney's arguments. Years of negotiating had taught her how to read her opposition. She had seen the change in his eyes, had watched them go from callous to speculative as he stared over Rodney and directly into her eyes. When he looked away, resting his gaze on Rodney instead, she had seen another twist that boded ill for Rodney, one filled with barely concealed lust that was too dark to be desire and too cold to be anything but a need to subjugate another to his will. She had seen that look in the eyes of despots seeking to control those on the other side of the negotiating table. Kolya had wanted to own Rodney and it surprised her when he grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the Stargate rather than take hold of Rodney.

In hindsight, she knew now that Kolya had considered her a hostage against Rodney, forcing his compliance until the drug in Rodney's system gave him full control, never expecting Sheppard to stop him from taking them both to the Genii home world. She tried not to think what would have happened to either of them had Kolya taken them through the Stargate, tried not to imagine what Kolya would have done to Rodney if the drug had not had a deadly side effect that no one could have anticipated.

"Basically, he's allergic to the drug so even this minute dose is wreaking havoc on his system. If we cannot find a proper cure soon then..."

She swallowed hard, filling in the consequences. Unless they found a cure then Rodney would die. "Drs. Parrish and Kelver?"

"Are working on it...but they might not find the right treatment in time."

Sheppard pounded his fist on the conference table. "There has to be someone out there with a cure."

Teyla leaned in. "Perhaps the alchemist who went to the Genii?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I can't sanction a mission to the Genii home world, not even for Rodney. It would place too many lives at risk."

"Perhaps you won't need to, sir."

Everyone turned to look at Bates, who had only been invited to the meeting because of his involvement in recent events on Manara.

"Go on," Sheppard ordered, keen eyes focused on Bates.

"On the way back to the Stargate I asked about their missing alchemist. Apparently, he has family on Manara too."

Sheppard gave a predatory smile. "Breadon was mighty eager to make amends. He could contact this alchemist and tell him there's been an outbreak of....measles, or the Pegasus equivalent, and ask him to return."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in thought. The Manarians did owe them this much. "Okay. Do it."

Sheppard, Bates and Teyla rose quickly and she did not bother to stop them from leaving because their role in this meeting was over. She was left alone with Carson and sighed as he lowered his head. The last few days had been hell for all of them but most especially for Carson. Not only was he dealing with his own injuries but those of his best friend too. She knew he had hardly slept since the moment Rodney collapsed, snatching quick naps between time spent in the labs with Parrish and Kelver or in the infirmary tending to Rodney.

"Is he stable?"

"For now."

"Then you should get some rest. Let your people get on with their jobs. You're not doing anyone any good in this state...and especially Rodney."

He sighed deeply. "Aye."

She watched as he struggled out of his seat and moved slowly to the door, shuffling like an old man and silently prayed that they would have some good news soon.

***

John piloted the 'jumper through the Stargate back onto the Manarian home world but his heart was in Atlantis, left with a dying man. Part of him wanted to be beside Rodney, tending to his friend's needs or simply just touching him while he still could but he knew he could make a greater difference here. This flower had originated on Manara so if anyone had a cure for its effects then it would be a Manarian. John knew the Genii were not stupid and that they would have sought out the best alchemist on the planet to create their controlling poison.

They reached the small town at the end of the valley within minutes, and soon after they were speaking with Breadon, asking for his assistance, having already decided to tell Breadon the entire truth. Teyla took the offered seat and leaned forward.

"The Genii have poisoned one of the Atlantean scientists with Cenara's Tears but the drug is working differently upon his body. He is dying and there is little time left to find a cure."

"As I mentioned before to you, I know of no cure."

"We are hoping to speak with the alchemist..."

"He has yet to return from the Genii home world."

John gave a tight smile. "Under the circumstances, we can hardly go pay him a visit." Teyla flashed him a look that John recognized as 'be quiet'. She smiled at Breadon.

"Perhaps you could request his return as a matter of urgency?"

"I'm uncertain how..."

John leaned in, unable to keep quiet while Rodney's life hung in the balance. "How about telling him his village has an outbreak of..."

"Winter fever," Teyla stated, her head tilting questioningly.

Breadon nodded slowly and brought out a device, activated the cumbersome communicator. "I wish to speak with Prenum of the Genii."

An hour later, John offered his most charming smile as an old man stepped through the Stargate onto Manara. They had their alchemist.

***

The first shot sent Sheppard falling and Bates yelled out, diving for cover and taking Breadon to the ground with him. He saw Teyla drop behind the DHD, dragging the alchemist with her, and heard her returning fire. More shots rang out and he cataloged them quickly as single shot projectiles weapons like those used by the Genii rather than automatics like the P90. Breadon's fingers were clenched into his TAC vest, the frightened man hiding behind Bates as he aimed towards the edge of the clearing behind the Stargate. He cursed inwardly, knowing he should have anticipated an attack from that direction as it provided the only cover for an ambush.

"Major!"

He could see Sheppard crawling towards cover, his left thigh a bloody mess, and Bates gave covering fire into the tree line, relishing the cry of pain as one of his bullets found its mark. Sheppard reached Teyla, hiding behind the bulk of the DHD with her. He reached into a TAC pocket and drew out a field dressing, wrapping it awkwardly around his upper thigh. From this angle Bates could not see how badly Sheppard was hit but he was fairly certain it wasn't an artery, knowing a man could bleed out in minutes if the bullet had severed the femoral artery. Once the pressure bandage was tied good and tight, Sheppard brought his P90 back up and sent a burst towards the location of the last shots fired.

Silence fell and then a familiar voice rang out clearly. "Tell your people to drop their weapons, Major Sheppard."

"Smeadon," Sheppard ground out low enough that his voice carried only as far as Bates. He rose up a fraction, head peering above the cover of the DHD. "Now why would I want to do that, Smeadon?"

"Because if you do then I will allow your fellow Atlanteans to leave unharmed. I may even allow them to take the alchemist with them."

"And me?"

"The Genii have offered a substantial reward for you, Major Sheppard. It appears that you have caused quite the upset."

Breadon moved slightly from behind Bates, causing him some concern as he pushed the man back behind him. "Smeadon! The council will not tolerate this. I demand that you let the Atlanteans go unharmed."

"My dear Breadon, the council is made up of frightened old men and women. Once I have disposed of you, I will disband the council and take my rightful place as ruler."

Sheppard snorted. "I'd say you and whose army but I guess the Genii are providing the firepower."

"The Genii have proved to be good friends to the Manarian, unlike the Atlanteans who have offered us only words and medicines when they have such great technology at their command, perhaps enough to hold back the Wraith."

Bates was not certain how Sheppard would answer to those charges because, to an extent, they were true. After the debacle concerning the Genii, Doctor Weir had ordered Sheppard and the other offworld teams not to offer anything that could be seen as a weapon. It was inevitable that the Genii would make a play for the city and the technology it held, and failing in that, for the brilliant physicists like McKay who could further their nuclear program. He recalled all too well the heated debate following the original disastrous Genii incident and how he had argued that McKay should remain in the city where he would be safe from any kidnapping attempts, for once word spread, he would be a target for anyone operating a similarly hidden weapons program. Sheppard had backed up McKay's insistence that he could do as much good out here, searching for Ancient technology as in the city, perhaps better because few had the necessary ability to work with the technology so intuitively - or even how to find it in the first place. Of course, recent events had proved that even the city was not a safe haven for their resident genius and as obnoxious and arrogant as he was, Bates liked knowing the man was around to pull their butts out of the fire.

He watched as Sheppard opened his mouth to respond to Smeadon's accusation but he was beaten by Breadon.

"You would betray your people for Genii promises?"

"I do not see it as betrayal...more as liberation."

"You are a fool. A dangerous fool."

"And you are a dead man." Smeadon aimed the Genii gun he carried directly at Breadon, who had moved out of cover while he argued with Smeadon but Smeadon had made the same mistake. Bates fired a single shot for his P90, straight through the heart. Smeadon stared straight at him in surprise, the Genii gun dropping from his useless fingers and then he crumpled, dead before he hit the ground.

"The sound of more weapons clicking brought Bates's head around as Breadon's men finally arrived and Bates could only give a ragged sigh as the Genii-armed followers of Smeadon gave up their weapons.

"Dial Atlantis, Sergeant."

Bates snapped his head to where Sheppard sat, clutching his upper thigh. "Yes, sir."

***

Kelver watched carefully as the alchemist, called Sorlen, picked the smallest leaves from the Cenara's Tears and crushed them in a small stone bowl with a pestle. Carson and Parrish looked on with Charin, who was taking an avid interest in the proceedings.

"I have never heard of the Cenara's Tears having such an effect upon a man," Sorlen murmured for the umpteenth time, still more with intrigue rather than with irritation or fear. He did not seem at all perturbed at being taken from his home world. "The cure is shrouded in secrecy for what good would be Cenara's Tears without the unbreakable need attached to it." He glanced up, eyes bright. "My mother was the last healer of Manara and she taught me all that she could before she was taken by the Wraith. She taught me to use the cure sparingly, choosing to save only those who had a greater role to play in freedom from Cenara's curse. I believe your Dr. McKay is such a man."

Kelver wondered how Sorlen could have decided that from a single visit to the infirmary. Except he had looked at McKay with eyes wide in amazement at the equipment that was keeping him alive, before reaching out and feeling McKay's body under arms and groin, pulling back an eyelid and measuring his pulse manually, the way Carson was inclined to do. Kelver knew Colonel Sheppard and many of the others were suspicious of the man, aware that he could just as easily kill as cure but Kelver thought differently. Sorlen was beholden to no one. He had created the poison for the Genii commander because it had been asked of him, and he had been paid well. He was providing a cure for the same reason, as Doctor Weir had promised him several items as payment for his assistance, and yet he worked out of intrigue too, Kelver could bet.

He thought of the protective stance taken up by Sheppard when Sorlen began to touch McKay so intimately. He recalled seeing Sheppard's fingers twitching, his hand hovering just above his sidearm. It was hard to believe that so many felt so protective of McKay. Back in Antarctica, they had labeled McKay as the person most likely to be murdered by a co-worker because of his inflated ego and caustic remarks that sent many a person crawling away in tears. Many had hoped Kavanagh would be placed as chief scientist but Doctor Weir must have seen something in McKay from the start, something no one else had noticed because, out here, Kavanagh had crumbled beneath the life and death stress, unable to see beyond his own fears and instinct to survive while McKay, for all his pettiness and arrogance, had shined.

Kelver watched as the old man took out several vials and placed a drop or two into the crushed Cenara's Tears. He added other ingredients too, an off-white powder that was the crushed bones of some small creature found on Manara, a gelatinous mess that smelled awful. All of the ingredients were blended into a thick paste under Charin's watchful eye.

The old Athosian hummed occasionally, nodding her head in agreement and that gave Kelver more confidence in the strange mixture. He watched as Sorlen added plain water, stirring the mixture into a brackish soup.

"This needs to be heated and then given to your McKay two times a day until he no longer feels the effects of the Cenara's Tears." The old man eyed Carson sternly. "He will get a little worse before he gets better but you must force him to drink."

"Aye...worse."

Kelver could see the irony too because McKay had already died on them twice so how much worse could it get? But with McKay growing weaker with each passing hour, they had little choice left but to use Sorlen's medicine because creating their own anti-toxin would take far too long.

***

Rodney could not open his eyes, too tired and weak even to try, let alone to complain about the voodoo science that was not helping. He could feel the pressure of John's hand clasping his own, feel the warmth of John's breath upon his cheek as John leaned in close.

"I should have told you," John whispered, and Rodney wanted to reply with 'told me what?' but it was too much effort. "Should have told you how I felt...what I wanted. You. I wanted you." John gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Except I didn't know what I wanted until..." He sighed but Rodney filled in the final words, 'until it was too late'.

If he'd had the strength he would have laughed at the irony because he had deliberately forced aside his feelings for John, certain that they could never be returned and not wanting to ruin the friendship that had grown between them. It was too much as he felt the burning sting of tears. He was dying and he didn't even have the strength left in him to make a deathbed confession of love but perhaps that was for the best as then John would not have to live with the regret of knowing Rodney would have welcomed his advances. He felt warm pressure against his lips, unsure if it was a kiss or the touch of a finger. Perhaps he could pretend it was a kiss. A first and last kiss. He could feel a tear spill over and trail down his cheek, felt a callused finger capture it and smooth it away.

"Rodney?"

Even if he could answer, the moment was lost as Carson arrived in a rush. "Major, perhaps you could help me."

Rodney felt the touch of hands beneath his shoulders, drawing him up, followed by the press of a cup to his lips. The liquid within was foul but he did not have the energy left to fight, swallowing weakly as the awful concoction slid down his throat.

"That's it, Rodney lad. Just a few more sips."

***

John lowered Rodney back to the bed and sat back down to wait. All the reasons why this was not such a great idea evaporated with the knowledge that Rodney was dying and that he would die if Beckett's latest treatment failed to work. He wrinkled his nose up at the stench, biting back a desire to ask Carson if he had checked out the disgusting stuff before offering it to Rodney but he knew Beckett was a consummate professional. No doubt he had tested the composition of the drink to ensure that there was nothing in there that could kill outright.

"Sorlen said it will make him worse before it makes him better, and judging from the ingredients I'm apt to believe him."

"But?"

"But I don't have much of a choice left to me. I could synthesize a cure given enough time..."

"But Rodney doesn't have that."

"No, he doesn't." Beckett patted Rodney's hand, the one being held by John, trying to offer comfort to both of them as if he knew there was a lot more feeling on John's side than mere friendship. "It's all I can do."

John nodded. He would have to trust this Sorlen, and Charin and Beckett. He would have to trust that they all had Rodney's best interests at heart. It helped that he did trust Beckett anyway for the doctor had seen them through a few nasty surprises picked up from other worlds. As for Charin? Well, he trusted Teyla and Teyla trusted Charin.

"How long 'till we know if he's getting better?"

"Oh, I'm sure Rodney will let us know when the time comes...loud and clear."

"And sarcastically."

Beckett laughed softly. "Aye. That as well." He patted Rodney's hand one more time and moved away, leaving John to sit his vigil alone for now but John knew Beckett would never be too far away because he was Rodney's friend too. He hissed as he moved his leg, feeling the bandage rubbing inside his pants. As wounds went, this was not the worst he had suffered and was barely a graze, needing only a few stitches. Still, it hurt when he moved or when the material of his pants stretched over the area too tightly.

A glass of water appeared in front of him and John looked up to see Beckett smiling wryly.

"I guess you could do with these if you're planning on keeping Rodney company.” He handed over two Tylenol and John accepted them gratefully, swallowing them quickly and sipping at the water. By the time he looked back up, Beckett had gone.

Over the days that followed, John doubted that Rodney was ever alone. When neither he nor Beckett could stay then Elizabeth, Teyla, Ford and a number of the scientists sat with him, though mostly Grodin and Zelenka. Since the incident with the Puddlejumper getting stuck in the Stargate, Rodney had found a friend in Dr. Zelenka and, much to Kavanagh's disgust, had made him his deputy. They worked well together, sparking off each other's ideas. It had been the pair of them together that had figured out how to save the city from the storm and it was a friendship borne out of professional respect that had brought Zelenka to Rodney's bedside now.

John stared at the smaller man, lips twitching at the way Zelenka's hair stood up in all directions like some archetypal mad professor. He was bent over a laptop, mumbling equations and theories as if Rodney could hear but had chosen - for once - not to respond. Zelenka would look up occasionally, smile brightly at some joke that only he and Rodney might ever get and then his grin would falter as Rodney's usually mobile face remained waxy and slack, a machine pushing air in and out of his lungs once more when the cure proved almost as deadly as the poison.

Elizabeth had forced Beckett to take a rest, refusing him admittance to his own infirmary and to the medical laboratories for at least eight hours, barring any emergencies that could not be handled by another doctor. John leaned against the wall, listening as Zelenka outlined some convoluted theory concerning output from the Earth-built generators that powered Atlantis. He straightened when he heard approaching footsteps, not surprised when Beckett stopped beside him. Had it been eight hours already?

"Major."

Zelenka looked up and back towards the entrance when he heard Beckett's voice and looked momentarily confused when he saw John standing there.

"Major Sheppard. You have come to keep Rodney company, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Good. I have much work to do in the laboratories. Mostly paperwork. Lots of paperwork. He does not tell me this when he offers me deputy position." Zelenka pulls a face. "You will be in charge when I'm offworld or indisposed, he says, as if it is a great honor to replace his genius with my own."

John smiles, knowing this is all bluster to cover up the fact that Zelenka is worried for Rodney, worried that the acting-Chief Scientist role might become his permanently. Zelenka confirms this with words breathed on a soft exhalation as he slipped from the infirmary.

"I do not want to replace him."

"Not gonna happen," John sends back but only because he refuses to believe that he is losing Rodney. He glances at Beckett and sees a look in his blue eyes that forms a tight band around John's chest, making it harder to draw breath.

"Before you sit with Rodney, I need to check his vitals."

John nodded and leaned back against the wall, studying the lines and machines that kept Rodney just this side of living. Beckett frowned upon pulling back an eyelid. He called out sharply, and John pushed upright, body coiled for action.

"Dr. Hassan? Have you continued with the treatment?"

Hassan rushed over and handed Beckett the latest set of results from blood tests. "Yes... and I think it's working."

Beckett's eyes flicked up, wide with relief and pleasure rolled into one. "Aye, I think it is."

"Doc?"

Beckett turned to John, eyes still filled with growing joy. "Doctor Kelver and I refined Sorlen's cure, substituting the active ingredient that was causing Rodney's body to react so badly and drip-feeding it through the IV. I think it's working. In fact, I'm bloody sure of it."

It took another sixteen hours before Rodney showed any signs of breathing all by himself, only partially awaking in near panic but settling at the sound of John's voice offering reassurance. His blue eyes, no longer surrounded by a sickly yellow hue, seemed all the brighter even though they were dulled by fatigue. John could see him struggling to keep his eyes open, could see him refusing to look away from him as if John was his lifeline. Eventually, exhaustion overwhelmed him and he slept but, this time, it was a restorative sleep, one that John was certain he would awaken from.

John sank into the seat beside the bed and took Rodney's hand in his once more. Over the past few days he had taken every opportunity to think about Rodney and about what Rodney meant to him. He had brought up every known obstacle between them including what seemed to be the worst of all, DADT, only to realize that it held no weight in an international expedition for they could not have rules that applied to one soldier but not to another. On Atlantis there was no DADT and, as Elizabeth said all those months earlier, they might never find a way home anyway.

After all was said and done, the only true obstacle was Rodney and the fact that the man took every opportunity to talk about the blond, beautiful and brilliant Samantha Carter. Yet John knew from very personal experience that appearances could be deceptive, having fumbled in the dark with more than one seemingly straight-as-an-arrow jock or soldier. He had always felt a pull towards those who shared a sexual interest in other men and he had felt that pull from Rodney though the only way to know for certain was to say something to Rodney once he had recovered.

***

 **Epilogue**

Waiting for Rodney to be released from the infirmary was the true killer because John had so much he had promised to say to him as soon as he recovered but the infirmary offered little in the way of privacy. He took the opportunity to walk Rodney to his quarters, a hand ready to grab him should it look like he was not going to make it unassisted despite Rodney sniping at Beckett that he was 'fine'. Rodney was still a little unsteady on his feet, and slow - *very* slow - but John resisted the urge to make him walk faster. He could see a sheen of perspiration forming across Rodney's forehead and top lip, tightening his own lips as he wondered if Rodney was truly ready to leave Beckett's care.

The door to Rodney's quarters opened ahead of them and John was impressed because Rodney usually had to think pretty hard to get it to open from a distance even when he was in great shape. Perhaps he thought too hard and the fatigue from his recent brush with death had robbed him of over thinking the command to Atlantis. Whatever the case, the door was open; Rodney staggered in and slumped onto the edge of the bed.

"Well, you've seen me home so..."

"I've got my orders, McKay. Walk you home and tuck you in."

Rodney scowled his displeasure, no doubt convinced that he would be well enough to power up his laptop and spend the next twenty hours working on it once no one was monitoring him closely. Except Zelenka had his orders to restrict Rodney's access for another few days. Not that the little Czech scientist could do much to stop Rodney if he was that determined to work himself into an early grave so John had volunteered to provide a distraction. He pulled a disk from inside his jacket and waved it at Rodney, lips twitching as the scowl was replaced by curiosity.

"What is it?"

"The Sixth Sense." Rodney stared at John for a moment and then sighed when John grabbed his laptop, booted it up and loaded the disk but the scowl returned when John stopped it from playing. "Gotta do the tucking in part first so lift your arms." He reached for Rodney's shirt, dragging it partway up his body.

"What are you...? Who do you think you are? My mother?"

"Well if you're gonna be such a baby."

The fight went out of Rodney too quickly and John could see he really was too exhausted to fight him but he still insisted that he undressed himself. John watched as Rodney stripped off the shirt, feeling a tightness in his chest and belly as pale flesh was revealed. A smattering of light brown chest hair formed an upside down triangle across his chest, leaving his nipples hairless... and perky from the cooler air. Unconsciously, John licked his lips, trying hard not to stare at the enticing sight. Instead, he turned and grabbed a baggy t-shirt and some boxers draped over the chair beside the bed, recognizing them as Rodney's normal sleep attire from the one occasion when he had cause to wake him in the middle of the night. He bit back a grin as Rodney dragged on the t-shirt quickly, casting his eyes up at John self-consciously. He had never noticed how shy Rodney could be, but the embarrassment flushing his cheeks and the way he tried to hide himself behind the bed sheet while removing his pants was strangely sweet though impractical. John winced as Rodney started to get tangled up.

"Turn away," Rodney ordered with rising irritation and John smirked.

"Nothing there I haven't seen before, Rodney." Which was not exactly true because Beckett was very respectful of his patients' dignity but a quick peek over the top of the tangled sheet had the flush deepening on Rodney's face even as Rodney jerked the sheet back into place. "Got one of my own." And he could feel the tightness in his pants from his response to the sight of Rodney half-naked especially from seeing Rodney's cock at half-mast, curving gently across one strong thigh. At the sullen glare, John turned away. The slither of material over flesh continued a while longer and when John risked a peek over his shoulder, he found Rodney dressed in his sleep attire with the sheet and blanket covering him to the waist.

"Ready?"

A quick nod and John started the film, gaining another scowl as he ignored the chair in favor of settling on the narrow bed, shoulder to shoulder with Rodney. John ignored the sharp dig of an elbow as Rodney got comfortable, smiling when Rodney leaned in closer and closer as the film progressed. John had seen this film before and when he did not feel the expected startled jump from Rodney when the strange girl grabbed at the boy, he glanced sideways and sighed, finding Rodney fast aslepp with his head pillowed on John's shoulder. Rodney barely flinched when John moved off the bed and eased him down to lie more comfortably, having already stopped the film. Maybe they'd watch the rest another day, if he could persuade Bates to part with it again without having to make it a command. He sank to the chair beside the bed and stared at Rodney, drinking in the dark circles under his eyes and the too pale face, sighing when he realized another day had passed without him telling Rodney exactly how he felt about him but maybe that was for the best because Rodney was hardly on top form right now.

"Tomorrow," he whispered. "I'll tell him tomorrow."

Leaning in, John brushed his lips over Rodney's, pulling back at the soft moan of pleasure and the flutter of sinfully long eyelashes but Rodney stayed asleep.

***

Rodney awoke to the soft sighs of another person sleeping close by. He glanced at John through bleary eyes, rubbing them to remove the grittiness of sleep, and smiled softly as he pushed aside the covers pinning him to the bed. He had not expected John to stay with him all night and, no doubt, that had not been John's intention either judging by the uncomfortable sprawl but Rodney was not going to wake him. Instead, he took advantage of this rare sight to study the handsome features; from the curve of his lips and eyelashes to the points of his ears and chin. The familiar five o'clock shadow had darkened his cheeks, chin and neck and Rodney fought against the impulse to reach out and draw his finger across the bristles.

When he was dying, he had been filled with regret for not telling John how much he returned John's feelings for him and now he was a little scared that John's words had just been the survivor's equivalent of a death bed confession, saying what he thought Rodney wanted to hear. Yet, he could not deny the emotions those words had evoked within him, nor the distress in John's voice as he spoke them.

In the cold light of a new day with death no longer hanging over him, it would be so easy to pretend those words had never been said aloud, burying them deep in his heart, but when had Rodney ever taken the easy road? He snorted softly, aware that he had spent most of his life shying away from relationships and none of those had meant as much to him as this one. Perhaps that was why he could not take the easy way out now. He and John could be so much more together and that had to be worth the risk of being rejected. He gave into the impulse and reached out to brush his finger across the full lips, memorizing the curve of the Cupid's bow.

Dark eyelashes fluttered as the gentle touch awakened John, his eyes opening abruptly with the gold and green almost lost in the darkness of sleep-dilated pupil. He sat up straighter, leaning even closer to the bed.

"Rodney?"

"Did you mean what you said?" A perplexed look followed so Rodney continued. "About wanting me?"

The hazel eyes widened a fraction, tongue peeking out to slice across the full lips nervously, leaving them glistening. John studied him for a moment longer and then relaxed, sighing and nodding his resignation. "Yeah."

Rodney felt his lips twitch as he leaned in. "Then you won't mind if I do this." He closed the gap and kissed John lightly before pulling back, pleased with the stunned look on John's face.

Mere seconds later, John was pressing him back to the mattress with the weight of his lean body, lips savoring Rodney's. Fingers were tangled in his hair.

"Thought I'd lost you," John whispered against his skin before kissing him deeply, putting everything into the press of lips on lips, and Rodney kissed back as hard as he could, wanting to taste and devour the man lying above him. All too soon the need to breathe dragged them apart, hearts racing, breath coming in short gasps of tingling pleasure. Rodney felt a hand slide beneath his t-shirt and arched up into it, wanting to feel the warmth of John's palm against him. His own hands pushed under the tight black t-shirt feeling the flow of toned muscle beneath them as he caressed the strong back.

"Want this. Want this," he panted against John's throat before licking and biting on bristled flesh, feeling the tingle against already sensitive and kiss swollen lips. His fingers dug in harder, desperate to stop John from pulling away from the fast building pleasure as his hard cock rubbed against the firm body above him. He could feel an answering hardness through the rough BDUs, pressed against his belly.

He whimpered when John pulled back with a sharp gasp, fingers scrabbling to clutch at the waistband, to drag him back.

"Need to get these off, Rodney," he whispered hoarsely and, reluctantly, Rodney let go. John gave him a goofy grin. "And you need to get them off." He indicated towards Rodney's boxers and t-shirt, laughing and shaking his head softly when Rodney stripped off the clothing eagerly and cast both items aside.

Rodney watched from the bed, one hand teasing his erection as John stripped a little more sedately, stepping out of his clothes and folding them up carefully so they would not be creased when he needed to re-dress later. His breath hitched with every inch of bare flesh exposed, his grip tightening on his cock, twisting as his hand slid over the end. He closed his eyes as the sensations drew him to the edge only to open them wide, frantic with need unfulfilled as a hand stilled his own.

"Mine."

The hot mouth engulfing him had him arching off the bed, with only the hard grip of hands on his hips stopping him from choking John. He lasted for only a few more seconds before he was coming hard, crying out his release in a babble of incoherent words, hips jerking against the hands holding him down. Totally spent, he collapsed in a boneless heap, body pliant as John crawled over him, pressing the length of his body along Rodney's and thrusting, his hard cock sliding against Rodney's sweat slicked belly until he stilled momentarily with a guttural cry, warmth flooding between them as he jerked to completion. John kissed him sloppily, his mouth bitter with Rodney's semen but Rodney would happily taste himself on John's lips again and again.

Fatigue dragged at his body, eyelids too heavy to stay open as the messy kisses became softer, gentler, sighing as a hand stroked over the curve of his ass.

"Want this next time."

Rodney smiled against the mouth covering his, already dreaming of next time as he fell asleep in John's arms.

THE END


End file.
